


The Cards We Hold

by RogueAlice_91



Category: One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest - Ken Kesey
Genre: M/M, One Flew Holiday Ecchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 00:03:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueAlice_91/pseuds/RogueAlice_91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mack looks back on how his relationship with Harding started.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cards We Hold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thetalkingcrocus](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=thetalkingcrocus).



> Written for Thetalkingcrocus for the One Flew Holiday Exchange. I hope that I have complied with at least some of the requests.

What it was, was just the two of them being together, or in this case staring at each other over the cards they held. Funnily enough it started out the same, their coming together as a…couple? Yeah. That particular game of cards was burned into Mack’s brain only because of those fluttering things Harding called hands. Mac leaned back in his chair, pretending to look at his hand, which he knew was a good one, and thought back to how they grew to be a couple. ‘It was that one day when Martini almost won….’ 

*******************************FLASHBACK**********************************

Randle P. McMurphy was distracted. Of course he wouldn't say that out loud and never admit it even in his own head but he knew he was. It was those damn hands that specific pair that had caused it really, had caused his lapse in focus on the hand he held. The hands in question belonged, or more accurately were attached to Harding, a man who looked more at home in a library or teaching than in a nuthouse. Mack first noticed them during the near middle of the game when Harding lifted one (the right, he noticed) to push back his hair. He forgot to watch Martini to make sure the man wasn't cheating again in favor of zeroing in on that hand.

‘It looks like a nervous bird.’ And that was true, with the whiteness of the skin and the agitated twist of the fingers the hand was more like a scared dove than anything. Mack let his eyes travel over the landscape of it filing away the fact that Harding’s right hand had an index finger slightly crooked like he had broken it sometime. Or that his wedding ring was missing from his ring finger leaving behind a faint line that almost blended with Harding’s skin tone. 

Mack could see from his spot across from the man that, like always, the nails of his hand were buffed and cut like he’d just gotten a manicure. ‘How the hell did he get his nails clipped in a place like this? Must be a privilege for good behavior.’ He snorted at this causing the others to look at him and for him to realize he should concentrate on the game. “Ratched.” He muttered in explanation.

The rest of the game carried on good except for Martini taking advantage of Mack’s wandering mind and eye to snatch a few cards from him and swapping them, earning the short man a good hand. Harding had noticed the switch of course and waited till almost the end before pointing it out. At first Mack had worried he’d been caught staring but if any of the others noticed they didn't bring it up. 

The next time he noticed anything about Harding it was when they were outside. Mack was trying to get Chief to make a basket again on the court when two pale hands flitted one way and then the other in the air. He turned to watch his fellow crazy get caught up in a story he as telling to Cheswick and let his hands out of their cage.

Mack idly wondered what story Harding was telling and if it was one he’d heard before when the ball hit him square in the chest with a thump. Scowl in place he turned ready to crack off to whoever it had been and was surprised to see Chief standing there, hands out like he’d just thrown the ball. Easy smile replacing the scowl, Mack let out a guffaw and took the ball, Harding’s display forgotten.

Both of those days were followed by ones that gave Mack nothing to stop and look at about Harding and the odd fascination was blown away. It was a week later when he caught Harding staring at him. Of course the man immediately turned pink and looked away but for Mack it was enough. He decided to let the game of cat and mouse keep on until one of them cracked (more than they had having been sent to a loony bin) and ‘fessed up to why they were staring. Mack was sure Harding would blurt it out by the second week of their ‘game’ when he caught Harding staring at Mack’s wild hair like he wanted nothing more than to tame it. ‘Or pull it.’ Mack thought which led to such dirty thoughts he had to take care of himself in the middle of the night later. 

That day marked a shift, a change in their glances. Mack made sure to stare at a part of Harding that he imagined marking with his teeth and lips while the other man seemed to focus on the rise and fall of his chest. That in turn started him sneaking looks at Harding’s lower regions and wondered just what it was that had made the man’s wife reject him in the bedroom. All the looks and roving eyes were brought to a head when Mack brushed Harding as he passed by one day when they were both in the library. ‘Geez it’s like touching a lit firecracker.’ Mack thought as he tried to keep his face blank. He knew then that the tension would snap like a tight guitar string, he just didn't know when.

Mack was in the tub room by himself, shuffling his deck of cards in his hands when the door opened. The redhead looked up quickly to see who was disturbing his peace and quiet. He nearly dropped his cards when he saw Harding come in. The man looked just as surprised and started to back out of the room. Mack shook his head. “C’mon Harding, I don’t bite.” He flashed a grin as if to prove his point and watched the other man came closer to Mack who was leaning against the wall. It was obvious Harding wanted to say something and Mack decided to help him out by lifted an eyebrow. “Well what is it?”

Harding shifted from one foot to the other, hands at his sides. “Well, you see I was wondering…that is I thought I would inquire as to why you were gazing at me for the past fortnight.” Only after he had stopped speaking did his hands rise and flutter in the air like two white surrender banners. Mack grinned and shuffled his cards as he waited before answering, more to make Harding sweat than to gather his thoughts.

“So you want to know why I was watching you for…two weeks?” Here Harding nodded once. His grin grew wider. “I was watching you are an extra week or so before you even noticed. Now why I was watching you, well that’s my secret to tell ain’t it?” Mack sauntered forward until he was only a few inches from the nervous man.  
“I was lookin’ at ya because you make it hard not to Harding.” Mack finally answered, looking him square in the eye. He decided he liked the pink color on his friend’s cheeks and the way his tongue came out to swipe at his bottom lip. ‘Another nervous habit.’ Mack noticed. He watched Harding gape like a landed fish for a minute before doing something he’d been thinking about on and off for days. 

Mack smirked and lifted a hand up to close his friend’s jaw and then kept his hand there, fingers splayed and cupping the skin. Then without a warning or giving Harding time to protest, he closed the short distance and kissed him. He had kissed only one man before and that had been his cellmate at prison and it was just because Mack needed to distract him to steal some money he’d been eyeing for weeks. Now though, this kiss, he did because he wanted to, wanted to see what Harding’s mouth tasted and felt like against his own. 

Mack broke the kiss when he didn't feel him kiss back. Bravely he looked at Harding and saw the clear shock in his eyes. “I…would like it very much if you would refrain from looking upon me or initiating such a blatant gesture of affection again.” The pale man finally got out and rushed for the door. Mack watched him go and cursed himself for pulling that stunt. Then an idea formed in his head. ‘If Harding doesn't want me to go after him then I’ll make it so he wants to come after me.’ The smile that lit his face then was one of a man knowing he would get what he was after in the end.

The next few days both men avoided each other like the plague. Until soon it turned into Mack doing the avoiding and Harding trying to act like nothing happened. When they were both in the tub room at the same time the redhead would get a sly grin on his face and Harding would blush and make an excuse to leave the room. The other guys thought that Mack had pulled some sort of prank on their resident ‘professor’ and demanded to know what he did. Neither one would give any answer; Harding ignoring the questions and Mack inventing tall tales as answers. 

Finally, after many days of steering clear of him, Harding approached Mack during one of the library days. He was browsing a book of comics in a scheduled corner of the library, not thinking about Harding for once when the very man found him. “Might I trouble you for a moment of your time my friend? I have a very delicate matter or importance to the two of us to discuss.” 

Mack hid his Cheshire smile behind the book and flicked his eyes up at Harding. “Sure.” He drawled, setting the comics down easily and standing. “Lead the way.” Mack flung out his arm in a wild gesture, nearly hitting Harding in the chest, who huffed and walked away past several bookcases to a corner where they would be both hidden and not overheard. 

Harding paced along the line of the bookshelf for a moment before whirling around to whisper at Mack, “Why did you….kiss me in the tub room?” All his flowery speech was forgotten in light of the burning desire to know the answer. Mack leaned against the shelf and watched his friend carefully. ‘It’s clear he’s ben chewing on that question for the past couple of days, that’s for sure. And just what kinda answer does he want anyway? The truth?’ 

Mack looked from Harding’s face and the sweat beading his upper lip to the placement of his hands. “I planted one on you because it was the right thing to do at the time. Now…now I wouldn't do it, at least not here. Why I did it, kissed you, was because I have wanted to for a few weeks now.” He confessed this with the patented coolness that seemed as natural as breathing to him. 

Harding stared at Mack, that pink color flooding his cheeks as he furrowed his brow. “You simply chose to display your affection for me in that manner because you thought it was ‘the right thing to do’? McMurphy that makes no more sense than the Colonel does. I can, I suppose, understand that you have waited to do so patiently and I thank you for that consideration. I would be dishonest if I did not say I…liked it.” The last sentence caused the blush to deepen.

Mack raised an eyebrow and a smirk began on the edges of his lips. “Alright then, so then I can kiss you when I want, if we are alone?” Harding looked like he wanted to change his answer but didn't. Instead he stepped up to the redhead, the expression on his face like that of someone trying to figure out a difficult puzzle. When Harding drew up in front Mack he leaned in and brushed their lips together. Surprise flitted across the other’s face for a minute but as soon as it did Harding pulled back. 

“Then I can show a token of my affection when we are alone as well. Whenever I want?” he asked, eyes glinting with mirth and seriousness. Mack didn't respond but his smirk widened to a grin and he kissed Harding once before going back to his table like nothing had changed.  
********************Flashback Ends***************************************

Mack was pulled from the memory and the ones that followed it by the sound of chairs scraping and Cheswick tapping him rapidly on the shoulder. Turning to the other patient, he beamed at him and waved a hand flippantly in the air. “Sorry Ches, lost in my thoughts.” He tuned out what Cheswick said next in favor of glancing quickly at Harding who’s upturned lips told Mack his lover knew exactly what those ‘thoughts’ had been. 

The rest of the day was not unlike the others before it and Mack wasn't surprised to find Harding slipping into his bed in the middle of the night. “What thoughts absorbed you so earlier at the card game?” Mack’s lover whispered, arms snaking around his waist, Harding’s longer body curling around him. In the darkness Mack smiled and closed his eyes.  
He let the silence surround him for a minute before he answered. “You, of course Harding.” Mack could feel the arms tighten around him and he stretched out, pushing himself back against the other man. A light kiss was dropped on the warm skin of his neck and he closed his eyes, safe in the arms of one Dale Harding and secure in the love they held for each other.


End file.
